Heavenly Light
by Lenni-chan13
Summary: Samandriel is good. That's why saves Adam. (In other words, nothing happens)


I was looking for a breath of life, a little touch of heavenly light  
But I would need one more touch, another taste of heavenly rush~

_le prompt (by my awesome, lovely friend who writes the best Adamandriel ficlets in the universe and I'm just being an ungrateful bastard): Adamandriel, hurt/comfort, drabble  
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_le fill: not really Adamandriel, something that's not really h/c and the best  
_

_word count: 1500+_

_wow I really suck. (and I'm terribly sorry, I wil try harder next time)_

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**Heavenly Light**

"It's the least I can do."Samandriel assures them warmly and forces his vessel's face to smile. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

He knows the words flowing smoothly from the borrowed lips are lies, disgusting and impure, not words an angel should speak. But his grace has been already twisted and if he has to decide between standing up to something he no longer believes in and giving the Winchesters whatever little solace there's left, he is always going to pick the latter. He has made his choices, questionable choices, knowing some of them might cost him his life, and no one is going to stop him.

„Thank you." Sam returns the smile. Dean stays silent, still not trusting Samandriel completely. Although everything has already been explained, the older Winchester seems to be very careful when it comes to angels changing sides. Samandriel nods and leaves in a flutter of wings, bracing himself for what is about to come.

The world is pain. Sharp, against his human body and the true form somehow fitted inside. White-hot daggers piercing his wings, flames licking the fragile frame, claws ripping off his skin, it all feels so real, though he knows it's merely an illusion meant to scare him off, defeat him before he reaches his goal. But Samandriel is determined like he's never been before. He might have been loyal to Heaven, but it's the Winchesters and their concept of family that give him a purpose. He made a promise he is fond of keeping. He is going to save Adam Milligan or die trying.

But the doubt is inevitable as he tears through Hell, blasting his way through the fire and darkness, going as fast as he can before the door closes, trapping him in the fiery Pit forever. At a certain point, he realizes he might have overestimated his powers. Hell is a terrible mess, most of its residents fighting elsewhere, but its defences still stay strong, the darkness of the place cutting Samandriel's grace like thorns, and he almost wants to give in to the pain and just let it end forever.

When he reaches the cage, he is almost completely exhaused and doesn't really believe he could ever make it back. When he sees the dimmed, but present, glow of Adam's soul, desperately reaching for his grace, begging to be saved, he prays to the Father for one last time and then dives in.

The light is impossibly bright, blinding him, burning his eyes. He recognizes it, and the high pitched noise ringing in the air as well, the signs of an angel arriving. He remembers all too well the last time he saw it, the time his brothers left him and the Archangel descended from heaven, taking his body and enslaving his mind, filling him with energy, raw power he could never hope to contain and yet he did, until his own brother grasped his arm and threw him down to the Pit.

He knows the Winchesters only did what was necessary for the sake of greater good, yet he feels strangely bitter about it. After all, Sam was rescued from the cage, first his body and then soul, while he was left inside with the Heaven's most terrifying creations filled with anger that would last for millennia and Adam would have to endure whatever torture originated from it.

Impossibly hot fingers grab his wrists, burning skin and flesh, making Adam howl in pain, and then there is more angelic light, more deafening noise, and as the angel drags him out, the world goes black.

Awakening is harsh, his body aches all over, feeling all the wounds the archangels inflicted upon him in their burning rage and unyielding desire for roll uncontrollably from his eyes and he doesn't even try to wipe them away, only lies absolutely still, waiting. The ground under him is cold, but there is also soft, reassuring warmth next to him, and when he manages to finally turn his head, he sees another body lying beside him.

Moving hurts, makes his vision go white, and if his stomach wasn't empty, he would probably throw up. But he knows that whatever happened, someone is bound to notice or go looking for him and he should better get away fast before anyone finds him.

He sits up, looking around. His eyes take in the strange but not unfamiliar sight-felled trees, huge hole in the ground, and then the motionless body at his side. He hesitantly reaches out, wincing at the sharp pain from his burnt wrists, and turns the body over.

The face is pale and battered, eyes closed, clothes drenched in too much blood and when Adam gently presses his fingers against the man's neck, he is surprised to feel pulse. He breathes out a sigh of relief and lifts the bloodied shirt to check for possible injuries, only to find pristine, untouched skin without even as much as a scratch.

He almost jumps when the body suddenly twitches, but with the pain slowing him down, he can't move fast enough and before he manages to scramble away, fingers are already wrapped against his wrists, and a pair of blue eyes is boring into the grey of his own.

Samandriel looks at Adam with wonder. He remembers all too well what the stay in Hell did to Sam Winchester, stronger in both body and mind, so it is quite a miracle that Adam is alive and breathing at all. There are some small wounds on his body which Samandriel decides to heal once he manages to get hold of his Grace again, but it's the soul that worries him. It's surprisingly not as damaged as he thought he would find it to be, but its light is still too dim, and he doubts he could possibly fix that.

"I am not going to hurt you, Adam. I came to help you. You are no longer in Hell." Samandriel says, letting his true form bleed through the surface of his vessel, not enough to hurt Adam in any way, but just enough to bathe the place in warm, soothing light. After a brief consideration he decides to show the shadow of his wings as well, along with the flicker of his halo. Adam seems to be only a little comforted by the sight, but he certainly does look stunned and speechless. Samandriel takes that as a good sign, because honestly, after Adam's experiences with celestial beings, anything that doesn't result in the poor boy running away can be probably considered a success.

"Who are you?" Adam whispers, eyeing Samandriel warily.

"They call me Samandriel. I am an angel. I am the one who rescued you from the Pit and if you want, I can take you to your brothers. They will take care of you."

„I..."Adam considers his options. He might not be on the best terms with his brothers, but he has nowhere else to go. „Yes. Please."

The hold on his wrists tightens, and with a flutter of wings, they're gone, a second later reappearing in a place Adam has never seen before. It's spacious, warm, and he has to wonder if this is not another angelic illusion.

„This is where your brothers live." Samandriel smiles tiredly and finally lets go. Adam realizes his wrists no longer hurt, although the scars, imprints of Samandriel's fingers, are still present. „I hope your life is better from now on." Says the angel then and disappears before Adam manages to speak.

The covers are warm and soft, and after all the time in hell, the feeling of them wrapped around his body is strange, almost unwelcome. He doesn't know how long his stay in hell was since time flows a little differently down there, but it must have been years, if not decades or centuries, and he is pretty sure it will take him a while before he gets used to the earthly things again.

He falls asleep soon, only to wake up in the middle of the night, heart racing, breath ragged, clothes drenched in sweat. He should have expected it, but it was a fool's hope in which he kept telling himself that he wouldn't dream of Hell, that all the torture wouldn't get back into him after he had left the place for good.

„I can help you if you let me."the darkness of the room retreats as Samandriel steps closer to Adam's bed, smiling. Adam is cautious, even after talking to his brothers he still doesn't trust the angel completely. Yet he nods, letting the angel sit on the edge of the bed.

„Close your eyes." the angel mutters and places his hand on Adam's forehead, warm against the cold, damp skin.

„Wait." Samandriel frowns a little, but complies. „I...thanks for saving me. I thought I was stuck there forever." The angel only smiles wider then and shakes his head.

„Don't think about it. Just-"

„Stay. Please." Adam is surprised by his own words just as Samandriel is. But he is also very lonely and desperate, hoping that maybe if the angel went through Hell to bring him back, he might decide to just...be around for a little longer.

„Oh, of course." The angel smiles again, so bright and kind that Adam, just for a second before he falls asleep, thinks there might be, after all, some good left in the world.


End file.
